


Always and Never

by royalstandard



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, Incest Kink, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4399760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalstandard/pseuds/royalstandard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am garbage. There is no point to this other than me being Mikaelcest garbage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always and Never

Her insides twisted nervously as she sat with her knees pressed together, her hands braced beside her hips and the sleeves of her shirt straining against her stiffened elbows. Over the course of a thousand years, Freya had been awake for ten of them. Her body was of age - her blond hair brushed her shoulders, her breasts were full, her ass, albeit a bit flat, was round; she was an example of Nordic femininity - but her mind was that of a teenager. There were parts of her that were aged beyond her years for she had seen enough torment and pain to last a lifetime, but other parts of her were stunted and immature.

Her body had only known one man, had only ever wanted to know one man. That love affair had been such a swift one; her brain was still so susceptible then. She’d wanted a normal human life so badly the desire ached in her bones, and whether the man she’d chosen was attractive or loyal or not, it hadn’t truly mattered. She believed she loved him, but she knew her heart could be easily deceived at that point in her life. Her teenage body hungered for sexual intimacy, as it did now.

The villagers called her a whore, and rightly so. Part of her was. She’d done it, she’d ‘fallen’ for him in the blink of an eye, fallen for the idea of a normal existence beyond Dahlia’s control so swiftly that her limbs had climbed into bed with the first acceptable male she could find. Her heart had even convinced her it was right, that she wanted to be with him for the rest of her life. As her body grew with his child, she’d fancied the notion of being a mother and a wife, living out her days in the frozen tundras of the north with her chosen lover. But deep inside, she knew she was a child toying with playthings. She was playing at existence, starving for normalcy and blindly convincing herself that was what she wanted.

But did any thousand-year old being truly know what she wanted? Was her brain, susceptible to century-long bouts of sleep and year-long fitful waking, genuinely capable of grasping a sincere desire now? 

She was like her siblings, a product of ten centuries’ worth of torture but woefully unadapted to life with her eyes open.

“Come now, Freya,” Rebekah’s soothing voice cut through her mind, piercing her movie reel of thoughts. Her younger sister had returned to her vampire body, her witch body having grown older and gotten a few wrinkles around the eyes that the vain blond disliked. Currently, her almond-skinned self was dreamlessly asleep, the body recharging and rejuvenating with a bit of help from her older sister’s magic. Rebekah was enjoying her familiar strength and enviable vampiric beauty whether she admitted it or not. Blood ran in a smooth line from the corner of her crooked smile to her chin, and just as it curved beneath her jawline, intent to drip onto her shirt, the blond beauty reached up and swiped two fingers across her porcelain skin, licking them languidly with the tip of her tongue to wick away the moisture.

“We will show you how its done,” Rebekah concluded, her blue eyes glinting mischievously, suggestively.

She shifted, her legs crossed at the knees, and she lowered her chin to look at her older sister over the remnants of her first meal back in her vampire body. “You’re clearly out of practice, and we’ve centuries’ worth. Who better to teach you?”

Behind Rebekah, his hand finding her lower back and slipping beneath her shirt to caress the skin against her lower spine, Klaus smiled slightly to himself before looking up at their older sister through the tops of his eyes. “Only an Original can truly love an Original,” he added, his voice smooth and sultry, as moodily lit as the room where they sat. His fingers drew five lines up the small of Rebekah’s back, his sister, and dug into her immortal skin as he traced them back down. He drew her blood, and she ground her teeth together as her back arched slightly. He smiled benignly, lifting his fingers to his lips and licking her blood from the tips. He preferred her in this body; it was where she belonged. He intended to rebuke her for ever leaving it, but he hadn’t yet gotten the opportunity. Tonight seemed the perfect chance. She was fed, they were all fat on the profits of their catch, drunk off of their reunion. This was a night made for debauchery of Mikaelson making, just as they’d done in the Renaissance and in the Twenties. He grew impatient for his reward, but he held his tongue for now.

Stiff in her seat, curiosity getting the best of her, Freya’s large eyes took them both in, her uncertainty clear in her expression. She, like them, had grown up in an era where sibling lines were no different than any other lines and easily crossed. It wasn’t that that made her unsure now. It was the publicity of it all, the lack of privacy. Rebekah and Klaus certainly didn’t seem to care, and she mildly wondered if that meant they’d done this sort of thing before. In reality, the only presence that actually soothed her was the stolid silence of Elijah beside her.

He’d eaten little and said even less, and now he sat with one foot rested comfortably atop his opposite knee, his tie undone a fraction of an inch around his neck. His dress shirt was unbuttoned once and lay open only enough to divulge the audience with the slightest glimpse of his strong neck. Comfortably, his arms extended across the arm and back of the couch, his dark eyes unamusedly taking in the sight of his siblings already pressed close together on the opposite couch.

Freya’s suspicions were correct: Rebekah and Klaus both had been in similar situations as this one before, as had Elijah. In times when they were the most bored, Klaus and Rebekah resorted to one another for their basest entertainment, and on occasion, their brothers were invited for the show. They were thousand year old beasts of their own making. They’d seen and done everything. They’d grown bored, explored, and come full cycle again. There was nothing the lot of them hadn’t seen, both together and apart. While Rebekah clearly always remained Klaus’s in times like these - his possessiveness never relinquishing through all these years so he violently and vehemently reclaimed her each time - the immortal siblings had shared much and spared nothing.

But Freya knew none of this. Compared to them, she was an impressionable youth still wrapped in her body’s own insecurities. She’d lain with a man, but not an experienced man, and it had only been once. She’d followed life’s natural course of events as succinctly as any immortal girl with only a year’s worth of exploration available to her at the time.

“Her heart is racing. You’re going to terrify her, Rebekah,” Elijah noted off-handedly, a hint of scorn in his tone as his eyebrows raised disdainfully. Glancing down at his wrist, he lifted his fingers, each of them falling soundlessly, one by one, back to the leather of the armrest. “This isn’t complicated.”

He could smell Freya’s pheromones; he could hear her heart beating hard like the hoofbeats of a racehorse through her ribcage. She smelled of nervousness and excitement, virility and concupiscence. She smelled delightful, even tastier than the few drops of blood he’d satiated himself with before their siblings murdered their prey.

Lifting his hand from the back of the couch, his fingers grasped the back of Freya’s neck and turned her head easily so she was looking at him. Her naturally wide eyes took him in, her eyelids drooping slightly as he watched her calmly, his hand holding her dominantly so she couldn’t look away even if she’d wanted to. He said nothing, but he moved in a flash, his mouth smothering her jugular vein in the blink of an eye. She gasped, her eyes rolling back into her head as the heat of his mouth suckled desirously on the pulse of her neck, and her heart thudded erratically as Elijah made contact with her. He sucked but didn’t bite, reserving his fangs, and released the back of her neck to slide his hand down her spine to grip her hip. His tongue followed his lips, drawing a thick line across her heartbeat before the muscles shifted, narrowing the tip of his tongue until it dug into her skin with a dagger-like intensity.

Rebekah smiled pleasedly, her hips writhing on the couch as she watched, while Klaus’s eyes darkened impudently. Rebekah’s pleasure entertained him to a certain degree, but her diversion of attention from him displeased him greatly. Petulantly, his hands went to her waist, nothing like Elijah’s intent attention to Freya across the room, and he forcibly shifted Rebekah’s body, shoving her so violently into the couch that the leather groaned in plaintive protest. It was merely a innocent couch, not deserving of such torture, but Klaus ignored it as he ignored his half-siblings across the small room. His attention was now on Rebekah, his intentions clear and concise, cutting through the blood-drunkenness in his mind and sobering him instantly. Rebekah always did this to him, inciting his foulest anger and his covetousness, and he lost himself in her as he never lost himself in anyone.

Pressed into the couch with the unmatched force of an immortal hybrid, Rebekah lifted her chin and moaned as Klaus’s teeth sank into her shoulder. Her head was turned away from him, giving him purchase to her skin as she watched Elijah and Freya across from them. Klaus was a dirty rotten liar, his hunger for her overpowering the proclamation he’d once made never to bite her. However, she’d known at the time he didn’t mean like this: in the throes of passion when the harm he did to her was understood and accepted, yearned for. 

Licentiously watching Elijah and Freya for a moment, her own lustiness ramped up by the voyeurism, Rebekah closed her eyes for a split second before twisting and sinking her teeth, with a growl, into Klaus’s neck. Insatiably, she drank his blood as he half-groaned, half-growled in desire, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward and sinking him within her to elicit a pleasurable keen from them both.

Now forgotten and ignored as Klaus and Rebekah became embroiled in each other, Elijah relinquished Freya’s neck from his tongue, pulling back so he could look into her face. He didn’t have to command her to repeat his actions, the intent was there in her eyes. She didn’t have his strength, but the intensity wasn’t lacking. Turning her body, her nervousness almost entirely forgotten, replaced by her hungers, her fingers ran back through his hair as she straddled his waist. His dark eyes blazed to life, having his hair messed up not among his list of things he enjoyed, but he said nothing and never took his gaze from her.

Her mouth was on his in a moment, her hips rocking against his as his hands naturally went to her waistline to steady her. Her fingers grappled with his shirt, still unfamiliar with modern clothing, but he didn’t help her. She could manage. His thumbs slipped beneath her peasant blouse, bending into her belly button as she ground herself against the growing erection in his pants. When she was successful with his shirt, that was when Elijah took control, whisking her shirt off over her head and tossing it aside before he buried his face in the crest of her breasts. He drank in of her raging hormones, using his vampiric strength to hoist her upward with one arm, divulging her of her underwear beneath her skirt with the other. Once she was free, so was he as Freya spared no time tearing at the clasps on his pants that kept him from her.

She stopped kissing his mouth now, focusing her attention on the dip in his chest where the base of his thick neck met his collarbone, and she heaved a panting breath against his skin as she slid herself over him. A rattling moan vibrated out of her throat involuntarily. She felt so full, her body stretching to accept him, and she was frozen in place so Elijah took control. He guided her hips, pulling her off of him and sinking her back down, using steady motions even as his own desire amplified to the point he felt he might burst. But he was a master of control and a thorough lover. Even as his own body struggled to release, begging to be indulged, he pushed her until he felt her losing control to him. Only when she orgasmed around him, involuntary throes of pleasure seizing control of her spine and stiffening her legs, did he finally give in and allow himself the same.


End file.
